Unseen Boundaries
by Yukisora
Summary: [RikuSora] Riku briefly wondered if maybe he’s still passed out somewhere. There’s no way that he’s sitting in the middle of his room, in nothing but his boxers, talking to a ghost who just described to him his wet dream from last night. Damn reality.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the Final Fantasy series, neither do I own their characters. Ownership rights goes to SquareSoft, SquareEnix, and Disney. Disclaimer pertains to upcoming chapters as well.

**Summary:** Riku/Sora Sora had the perfect life. He had everything he'd ever wanted, and everything he ever needed. That is…until the summer of 2003, when he'd died.

**UNSEEN BOUNDARIES**  
By: Yukisora

**CHAPTER 00  
Premeditated Death**

"_The woods are lovely, dark and deep But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep." **–Robert Frost**_

_**---**_

"One week."

The blond turned, green eyes narrowing as he glared at the man who was leaning against the display table. "Kid, mind getting off my merchandise?"

The young man dubbed 'kid,' in reply, merely shifted, smiled, and stayed. "C'mon, Cid, it's not gonna kill you."

"Says who?" muttered the blond as he stalked into the storage. Lanky in build, gruff in behavior, it's situations like this that Cid avoided at all costs; those little snippets of himself that he had to give away to other people. Family. _Friends._

Bah.

Did he ever _say_ he's a nice guy?

"Y'know," Sora Hashiba raised a brow, got comfortable, and prepared for a fight. Examining his own nails, careful to keep his eyes hidden with his cinnamon bangs, he tilted his head. "Ma never _did_ find out about those vases. You know the ones from London?"

Cid's head snapped out. "_Black_mail, Sora?"

"Per_sua_sion, Cid. Since you're being a dick."

"Hmph." He replied, careful to hide his pleased expression, as he spat and stalked into his stock room. That boy _really _had learned _everything_ he'd ever taught him. Not that hiding was doing him any good anyhow. Damn Sora and his stubborn tendencies. "Well, London vases or no, the answer is still _no_."

"Cid, that's unhygienic." Sora frowned, staring at the tiny puddle of saliva on the ground.

"Go coddle someone else, ya brat," he muttered, but stomped over to grab a rag with his scarred hands all the same.

Grinning, because, really, the old man was just so damned _transparent_, he flicked a single finger as he added, "But, ehh. Whatever."

"Really?"

"Yea." Looking up, not wanting to miss Cid's expression, Sora grinned. "Cause Leon never found out about his motorcycle either," he said, before genuine laughter flowed out from the horror that struck over Cid's face.

The quiet and vehement "Fuck!" that escaped had Sora bubbling with chuckles again. Reaching over to pat him, knowing he'd won, Sora reached for his snowy white coat.

"That's it, old man." Blue eyes sparkled. "Gotta get back to ma's place. Chicken parmesan tonight, if you're interested."

"Bah."

Shaking his head, heart warm with love, Sora grabbed onto his coat and made to leave. "Ya know, Cid, you realize vacations are supposed to be _fun_ right? Relaxation, peace, the little pieces of Heaven on Earth?"

"Who says I belong in Heaven, eh?"

Laughing, Sora strolled out the door. "Someone has to terrorize the angels up there, right?" He grinned as he slid into his NS5, the snappy convertible that had quickly become the love of his life. Gunning the engine twice, with male satisfaction written all over his face at the delicious purr of his baby, he roared out of the driveway and onto the busy streets of Tokyo.

Cars and people streamed past, barely significant to him. _This_ was why he'd chosen to stay in Tokyo. The hustle and bustle. The rush hour and the crowd. Even the smoke and pollution. Large edifices sped to, through, and out of view. The green light changed yellow, and Sora sped past.

Home. This place was home.

And, after so many years of studying, slaving, and sacrificing, Sora could finally take his own place. A contribution, something he could give to his community. Finally, at just the tender age of twenty-one, Sora was officially a graduate from Tokyo U with a medical degree. Eight years. Four years of college, two of med school, and two more of medical practices.

Genius. Everyone would have no choice but to agree. Sora Hashiba is nothing if not a genius. The little graduation, a miracle in itself, proved that.

Rounding the corner, Sora grinned when his house came into view. Ma would be home, he knew. Checking his car's watch, blue eyes lit up as he realized that he had enough time to get in, change, and bug his mother before dinner started. Perfect.

It was moments like these that Sora coveted more than anything else in his life. Torn away from his mother at the age of four, he'd lived with his father up to the age of eleven. That is ff you can call what they had 'living together'. His father, the world renowned pianist Yuuchi Hashiba, was never what Sora could call the conventional father. There were no baseball season, no football games on Sundays. Rarely ever present in his son's life, he was only home when he wasn't away on tours and wasn't away on tours only when he wasn't busy with some concert, some benefit, or dining with some royalty or another.

Oh, it's not that he's a _bad_ father, per say. He'd always ensured that Sora had only the best of everything, house, clothing, food, education. He'd ensured that there were always staff on hand, should Sora ever need anything. But, he was a famous man and with fame comes the price of responsibilities and duties.

Knowing that it was rarely ever locked, Sora turned the knob and rolled his eyes at his scatterbrained mother. "Hello! I'm a world-renown thief here to steal all your valuables! Can you please come out and give me a hand?"

Silence rang loudly throughout the entire house. Walking fully into the house, Sora's worry increased when he noted the lack of mind-reeling aroma. "Ma?" he called, as he walked into the kitchen. The chicken was stuffed, readied to be roasted. The parsley was chopped evenly on the cutting board, ready to be placed into the stew that hissed angrily in the stove. Everything could have been normal, would have been normal, had it not been for the single fact that the stench of fresh and concentrated blood nearly blowing Sora over.

Had it not been for the single fact that his mother's eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, weren't staring glassily back at him, Sora, with absolute and utter horror.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

The single two word mantra rang through his mind, again and again, as he dropped onto his knees. There, lying in the middle of the kitchen, with the frilly white curtains still fluttering from the evening breeze, lay his mother, pooling in her own blood. All other thoughts fled from his mind, as panic bubbled.

Too much blood. Even as he struggled to find a pulse, even as his frantic hands felt for breath, for any sign of life, his mind screamed. Too much blood. Too much blood.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

"OH GOD!" he screamed, as he reached down. Too much damned blood. Damned blood everywhere.

"MY GOD!"

It was how Cid found him, an hour later, huddled by his mother's body, tears tracks streaming down his face, the kitchen knife that had stabbed clean through her heart and lungs still penetrating through her body. In that instant, the fifty-two year old man finally understood what people meant when their life flashed before their eyes. "Oh God," he choked, unknowingly repeating Sora's words an hour prior. "Oh holy Mother of God."

Walking through the mess of the room—dear Lord, even the _walls_, the fucking _walls _were lined with it—he grabbed onto the younger man. "Sora."

"Cid, she's not breathing."

"I—Sora, I..."

"I can't help her, Cid. I couldn't..."

"I know, I know." Eyes tearing, nose clogging, the need to vomit punched through Cid's system. "Oh God," he muttered once, before grabbing Sora from the scene. Dragging the young man onto the nearest chair in living room, he made a mad dash for the phone. Leon. They need Leon right now. This fucking minute.

"Hel..."

"Come over to Sora's place! Right fucking now!"

"What the Hell?"

"And bring the entire fucking city's fucking police department with you, you mind!"

**CHAPTER 01  
My _Name's_ Not Delusion!**

Riku Sugisaki groaned as he dumped the box onto the ground. This was ridiculous. Why the Hell did he hire those goddamned movers, if they were going to leave it to him to carry everything anyway? He could have just saved those five hundred dollars (not counting tip) and buy himself those new acrylics that just came out of _Pearl_.

"Oi, Riku! Hurry it up with the boxes, will ya?"

Cursing, glaring at the box before him, Riku sighed as he hefted the must-be-a-million-ton box into the house. "Why the fuck aren't you helping, Honda," he yelled, as he dumped the cardboard box along with the other twenty that littered the small house.

The grinning face of his best friend popped out from behind the hallway. "Dude, somebody had to check out the entire house. This place is _great!_ Dibs on the room on the right, by the way," he added, as he started poking his way through the boxes. "Did you see the kitchen? It's got an _oven_ and a _stove_." Laughing, throwing a look over at Riku, Tidus threw his arms out, waving at the general direction of the kitchen. "No more instant noodles, microwave dinners, or Mac and Cheese that tastes like plastic!"

Rolling his eyes, Riku scowled as his friend bent down to sort through the boxes. Tidus Honda had been best friends with the silver-haired man since the day Riku had smacked him smartly in the head with a toy shovel in pre-school to protect his "territory" in the sandbox. Quick to retaliate, Tidus had thrown a bucket at him as revenge. By the end of the day, the two had united to build the best sand castle two four-year-olds can manage.

"What the hell," Riku muttered, cricking his neck. "I nearly broke my back, amputating my own _foot_ along the way, just to carry these damned boxes, and you were picking out a room?"

"Hey, first come, first serve." Tidus grinned. "And besides, you lost the toss. Ha."

"I know you cheated somehow," Riku grumbled, rubbing his aching back. Still, he had to admit, the place looked good. The lighting was great, the neighborhood sweet. There were no cockroaches or anything like that and the doors were functional. Remembering some of the other prospective houses that he and Tidus had checked out, he shuddered. At least this place had a _roof_.

"Which one of these boxes is mine anyway?" Tidus asked, opening the third box. Sighing, he frowned when he saw that it was yet _another_ box full of paint and pushed it to its brother and sister.

"Check the label," Riku smirked, as he took his three boxes into the room that was, presumably, his. Dumping the boxes onto the middle of the room, he exhaled happily, flopping onto the bed that had been provided by the landlord. Closing his eyes, Riku smiled as he felt the gentle air brush softly against his cheeks. It had been _months_ since he'd felt so relaxed. Living in that boardinghouse, along with twelve other people, had been stressful at best and chaotic to the point of near insanity at its worst.

"Oi, stop lazing around." Tidus's golden head popped up from behind the door, his bluish green eyes rolling when they caught sight of his friend.

"Who're you calling lazy?" Riku muttered, but got off his bed nonetheless. Rolling his own eyes, he plopped over by his boxes and immediately started sorting through the art supplies. Piling the paints in one section, the canvas and oils in another, he systematically shifted everything from cardboard to drawers, pulling the door close with a decisive 'thumph.'

Dumping the boxes, which held his clothing, into the closet, Riku kicked the door shut before going out to find Tidus. "Yo, Tidus. You done?"

Baby blue eyes turned towards the ceiling as Tidus regarded Riku. "Get those friggin' clothes outta those boxes and hang them properly, stupid. They're probably wrinkly enough as it is."

"What? Stop being such a friggin' girl!"

"_You_ try taking wrinkles out of your clothes without ironing them!" He paused. "Hey, what happened to my iron anyway?"

Riku blushed, remembering that one time where Kairi had coerced him into doing his own laundry. "Eh. Fine! I'll do it, I'll do it...after lunch. I'm calling for pizza, you want any?"

"Ah." Blond hair swished quietly, as Tidus nodded his assent.

Turning from his busy friend, Riku walked over the kitchen, admiring the stove and oven like Tidus had a moment before. Unable to keep his hands off it, he grinned as he peered into the inside of the oven, marveling at how clean it was. "Hm?"

Green eyes narrowed, as they caught sight of the slight glimmer, barely visible, that was almost completely hidden by the oven. Getting down onto his knees, he swiped at it until the tiny gold band plopped by his feet. Tiny clinking could be heard, as Riku reached down to pick up the ring.

"Huh." Eyes roamed over the faded gold, along with the slight scratches at the bottom of the ring. Three gems shone brightly on the top of the ring, embedded deeply into the golden band itself, red guarded by two blue.

"Did you call already?" Tidus asked. "Hm, what's that?"

"Dunno, I found it under the oven." Riku shrugged, as he held the ring out to his friend. "Think it's the landlord's?"

"Far as I know, he never set foot on this house except to buy it." Tidus raised a brow at the jewels. "Girly."

"Girlfriend?"

"Dude, the man is _bald_." Tidus rolled his eyes. "Just keep it. Can't be more than a few hundred, so tiny and everything. Welcome home present from the Gods!"

"Whatever." Slipping the ring quietly onto his pocket, Riku grinned.

---

_This is why I hate school,_ Riku groaned, as he sped past the honking cars, during the morning rush. Gunning the engine twice, he sped past those poor souls, who were trapped by their own large and bulky vehicles, having no choice but to wait out the traffic.

_Two minutes and twenty-seconds,_ he calculated, glancing down at his watch, as he parked his bike. Without even putting his helmet away, he made a run towards the large edifice standing near the center of Tokyo. Reaching the top of the stairs, he took a moment to take his helmet off, before running into the building at blinding speed.

Long strands of platinum hair streamed passed him as he ran. Muscles were taut, ready for that extra burst of energy if necessary. Lungs labored, as the last thirty seconds approached. One more flight. One more flight. Always just _one flight more_.

Why the Hell did the designer of this gods-cursed school have to make so many goddamned stairs?

_Twenty seconds!_ Ribs aching, face flushed, Riku rounded the corner. Throwing open the door, he ran into the seminar hall a few seconds before the lecturer entered.

"Mr. Sugisaki, do you care to explain why you are not seated?"

This is why Riku hated this class. Actually, it's probably unjust to blame it on the class itself. No, the students were fine, the subject interesting. But damned if Yanahara-sensei didn't have something against him!

"As a student of Tokyo University, you, Mr. Sugisaki, were one of the few lucky accepted members in our prestigious school. As such, I, and the rest of our staff, would expect that our students might come _on time and be ready_ when class is to begin. Have a seat, Mr. Sugisaki."

_I hate you. Die you cow-genital sucking bastard! Die!_

"Yes, sensei." Bowing, Riku quickly slid into the seat left to him by his best friend.

Smirking as Riku plopped back onto his seat and exhaled, Tidus chuckled. This wasn't the first time that Yanahara had gotten Riku on something and chances were that it wouldn't be the last. The student and teacher had hated each other ever since the first moment they'd laid eyes on one another. Maybe they'd had a relationship that had ended badly in a past life or something. In either case, their constant bickering livened up the entirely too boring class for the rest of the classmates.

"Tough luck, man."

"Shut up, Honda," Riku growled, throwing an arm over his eyes. "And quit your friggin' smirking."

Tidus grinned. "Just be careful, man. Yanahara's supposed to come on the trip to Kyoto and Okinawa next week. We'll be in his company for a total of ten days, every hour, minute, second..."

"Shut up, freak." Riku groaned, dropping his head back onto his desk. It had taken him a week to decide whether he should go or not. On one hand, it was an excellent opportunity for him, what with the free-of-charge service and the whole learn-about-art deal. On the other hand, it was sour-faced Tanko-I-had-pickles-for-breakfast-Yanahara, who was leading the trip.

The fact that Riku was allowed to go was, actually, a miracle in itself.

"I'm assuming the class read the entire chapter on the art forms during the Edo Era?" Yanahara asked, raising one thin eyebrow as he surveyed the classroom. "Good. Mr. Sugisaki, can you explain the fundamental characteristics of the artwork at that time?"

"Love to, Yanahara-sensei, sir," Riku drawled. "But if you'll look at chapter fifty-seven, under page five hundred and eighty-three, towards the end of paragraph two, you'll find the answer yourself." He smirked, pointed, and added, "I see you're even holding the book already."

Tidus couldn't decide whether he should laugh, or smack his friend silly.

The idiot!

---

Aerith rolled her eyes, mouth partially opened as she strained to keep from shifting from her position. She had such a horrible ache on her lower back. Damn it, she should've just splurged on that six hundred dollar leather bag. The university's art department just wasn't funded well enough to buy her that unnecessary but oh-so-luxuriant, soft-as-lamb-skin, chair. She sighed, drawing a hand to the bridge of her nose. A migraine was, slowly, making its way over, starting with the center. Linking her hands and dropping her forehead onto it, she willed the two currently arguing in her office to just _go away_.

But then, they were liable to kill each other.

And it would be Aerith's fault.

"_What?"_ Riku shouted, eyes narrowing in anger. "Expelled? _For answering your question!"_ At this point, the assistant principal of the art department blinked, as she turned her attention back onto the situation at hand. Sitting up straighter, she tried to rotate her waist without the others seeing, as she regarded one of the professors of her staff.

_"For inappropriate behavior in class."_

"Yanahara-san," Aerith sighed, as she turned green eyes onto the furious professor. "Don't you think expulsion is a _little_ too extreme?"

Yanahara glowered. In the past, no matter what, that little twit of a man, Riku, had always managed to slither out of all his trouble. Not this time. Oh, no. This time, he was going to get it and that's that. "Then I ask that Mr. Sugisaki be excluded from the trip all together." He turned gray eyes on his student, frowning in distaste. "There must be some form of formal punishment for his behavior in class."

"Excuse me,_ sir_, but I already _paid_ for that trip, in _full_."

"That's _your_ problem to deal with. You should have thought of that _before_ you acted like such a fool in my class."

"_Hello?_ I answered a question!"

"Alright, alright." Aerith frowned, narrowing her eyes at Riku. "Yanahara-san, I can see your point. Might I speak with Mr. Sugisaki alone?"

"Of course, Assistant Principal," Yanahara bowed a little. Turning to glare at Riku once more, the professor narrowed his eyes in distaste, before stalking out of the room.

Once the door was closed, Riku turned. From the silence of the room, and how readily Yanahara left, Riku was in for it. Swallowing, letting his eyes fall on Aerith, he coughed. "Principal?"

"This is not the first time I've heard complaints about you, Mr. Sugisaki." _All of it from Yanahara_, Aerith added silently, as she regarded the student before her. "Before, it had always been a matter of the class alone. As such, it was not in my hands to handle such affairs. However…"

Riku gulped.

"This time, your behavior is clearly unacceptable, as I've witnessed in my office alone. As such, I will agree to Yanahara-sensei's suggestion. Your seat on the trip will be taken off and offered to someone else."

"B-but, Principal!"

"Your money will, of course, be refunded," Aerith continued, speaking over Riku's protests. "Please use this time to inform your other professors of the change in schedule, and think of your behavior. You are _not_ a mindless teen unaware of the world. We are _not _an institution that's expected to discipline you. In March of this year, you will be graduating from our University. Please act like the adult that you should be."

Riku swallowed. Sighing, hanging his head, he lowered his eyes. "Yes, Principal. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused."

Aerith coughed. "Be sure to inform the attendance department."

"Yes, Principal."

"Dismissed." Aerith watched the silver haired boy walk out the room and sighed. Stretching, she laid a hand on the small of her back, as she flopped down onto her chair. Eyes turned onto the ceiling, as she regarded the smooth golden walls. It was such a shame. Riku Sugisaki had made his name in the art department the day he arrived at the University. A genius with colors, inventive with designs, the boy had a master's hands when it came to painting. Already, with still one more year to go, numerous companies and agencies had already taken an avid interest in his works, in his ideas, in his designs.

"So why can't you get along with Yanahara?" Aerith sighed, closing her eyes.

---

_Stupid Yanahara, Goddamned Yanahara, that fire-hydrant humping, rat-molesting Yanahara!_ Repeating the mantra, again and again, kept Riku sane as he stalked down the corridor to the parking lot. _Stupid Yanahara, Goddamned Yanahara..._

"Oi, Riku!" Turning, Riku stopped and waited as Tidus caught up. "Aw, crap." Tidus sighed, slapping his forehead, when he got a good look at his friend's face. "What happened?"

"Banned from the trip." Riku muttered and started stalking over to his bike again. _Stupid Yanahara, Goddamned Yanahara, that fire-hydrant..._

"I should've slapped you on the head after all," Riku heard his friend mutter.

"What the Hell?"

Tidus rolled his eyes, as they reached Riku's bike. "You were supposed to be on your best behavior."

"We're talking about Tanko-fucking-Yanahara here!" Riku growled, straddling his bike. "Even if I arrived to class fifteen minutes early, answered every single question correctly, sat quiet and docile as a _sheep _for the entire class, he'll _still_ eat me alive!"

Tidus sighed. Didn't this just suck. He'd been all ready to drag his friend around Kyoto with him, eating good food and leaving the bill on him. Now, however, it seemed he'll have to fund his own trip. "Damn, Riku, you're really selfish," Tidus frowned, slightly pouting. He glared at his friend as though he's the reason the world's ending. "You're gonna make me _starve_ on this trip."

"Ah-_ha!_" Riku twirled as he straddled his bike. "I _knew_ you had an ulterior motive!"

"Oi, speak nicely, young man," Tidus laughed, cuffing his best friend around his neck. "I'm your sole source to the many wonders of Kyoto and Okinawa."

"Whatever," Riku laughed, his spirits rising a little. Whatever, so he can't go on this trip. "Make sure you don't get me food again," he said, gunning his engine. "I'll see you later man."

_Still, stupid Yanahara, Goddamned Yanahara, that fire-hydrant pumping, rat molesting Yanahara..._

---

_"Oh, I give up."_

_Riku grinned, feeling the lips of the guy behind him curve into a smile as the spring breeze ruffled a few of the leaves on the tree. "Already?"_

_"Yea. I'm just no match for you." His heart warmed, as he felt the strong arms encircle his waist, pulling him closer in their little patch on the grass. He sighed, eyes closing off from the sight of the beautiful blue sky and its cotton candy clouds. _

_"You got that right...So marry me already."_

_"Hm."_

Green eyes opened slowly, still confused from the gentle warmth of the dream. Sighing slightly, he rubbed a hand to his forehead, cursing the drinks he'd had with Tidus and Wakka last night. Yet another bill he owed Yanahara. "Fuuck!" he muttered, as books fell onto the ground. "What the hell? Tidus, go die!"

Groaning, when all he heard was the quiet swishing of the wind, Riku dared to open his eyes, hissing when the morning sun struck the emerald green irises. "Holy mother of God! I promise, I'm never drinking again!"

"You won't be able to keep that promise, you know."

"I already told you to go die, Tidus!"

Another book plopped onto the ground.

"DAMN!" Sitting up, a hand pressed against his forehead to support his pounding brain, Riku turned two eyes over onto his desk, only to stare. "Did you dye your hair, man?"

Said man blinked. Reaching up to stroke his cinnamon strands, he turned from Riku's desk. "Ah, no. It's natural."

"Oh." Well, that was nice. "You're not Tidus."

"Erm, I don't think so."

"Oh." Hrm. "Are you floating or is that just me?"

"Ahm, no. It's not just you."

"Oh. Okay. I get it." Lying back onto his bed, silver hair spread against white cotton, as Riku buried his head back under the covers. "Good night."

"Excuse me, what are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Didn't you just wake up?"

"Nope."

Chocolate locks ruffled, as a hand reached over to scratch them. "Buuut...you were just talking to me, weren't you?"

"Yup. That's why I'm still sleeping."

"I...see."

Riku sighed, getting ready to rest when another gigantic bang slammed onto the floor. "Fuuuck!" Jolting out of the bed, eyes wide, he stared at the pile of art history texts that were stacked onto the ground. "_What_ is this?"

"Your books," the unknown kid said, as he threw yet another book onto the ground.

"Let me rephrase, _what_ are you doing?"

"I'm looking for something."

"Can't you be a _quiet_ delusion and let me sleep in peace?"

"Sorry, no can't do."

"This is the weirdest hangover I've ever experienced," Riku muttered, dragging himself out of bed. "Why am I seeing things? Did Wakka fucking put something in my drink?"

"You're not drugged."

"Quiet, delusion."

"My name's not Delusion, thanks," his delusion retorted, crossing his arms, as he floated over to Riku's bed. "Can you go back to sleep, so I can look through your things in peace?" he asked, mocking Riku's previous statement.

"Can you please not do it here? As in, go back into my mind and stop wracking havoc in my room?"

"Oh. I think I get it now. You think you're hallucinating."

"_Noo_...I don't think. My head hurts too much to think. You _are_ a hallucination and _don't_ contradict me, please."

"I wonder if you're always this unreasonable when you're hung over." As Riku watched, the kid floated over to him. Eyes widened as a bottle of aspirins floated before him. "Take your medication."

Riku froze. Hands, grasping his bottle of aspirins, shook slightly. Mind went blank, as his delusion leaned forward, waving an arm experimentally. "Hello? Anyone there?"

This was a real bottle. This was _Riku's_ bottle.

_"Oh dear God. TIDUS!"_

---

Sora jumped back in shock, sapphire eyes widened in an impossibly large fashion, as the silver-haired _God_ before him started screaming his head off. Really, it's such a damn shame that all the cute ones were insane. If there were more psychiatrists in the world who could do their jobs correctly, everyone would be happier.

"_Tidus!_" the guy Sora presumed to be Riku cried as he jumped out of bed, his sinewy body bare to the world. Well, bare to Sora's gaze but, at the moment, he is the world. "_TIDUS HONDA!"_

To the cinnamon-haired man's amusement, his current "roommate" ran out of his room...only to run smack into another guy who looked as though he'd stumbled out of bed with his head backwards. "Tidus! God, Honda, if this is a joke I'm gonna _kill_ you!"

"Huh?"

Crossing his legs in midair, Sora played with his necklace as he watched the two friends interact. It's clear that they're both suffering from the same hangover. After all, Tidus—Sora's guessing he's Tidus, since that's what Riku's calling him—looked as though he's about to cry every time Riku said anything

Letting out a breath, he briefly wondered if appearing before Riku was such a good idea after all.

"_How_ did you do it? I mean, I don't _see_ anything! Hidden cables? Cameras? Like...like a projection or something?"

Tidus stared. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"HIM!" At this point, the frustrated man pointed an accusing finger at Sora. "What _is_ he?"

Sighing a bit to himself, Sora settled onto his air pillow.

"Who?"

"The floating kid with the nice bod that's currently pouting at us!" Nearing his limit, Riku reached up to yank his own hair. "The one who floated _aspirins_ to me when I woke up!"

Sora blinked. Nice bod?

Tidus blinked. "Man, can't you just _ask_ for aspirins like any _normal_ person?"

"I'm _not_--!"

At which point, Sora interrupted. "He can't see me, ya know." Rolling onto his stomach, he nodded at the golden-haired man. "All he sees is air...and you freaking out. And, as funny as it is to see your face, I don't want to be the cause of you going to some loony bin."

"You really can't see him?" Riku asked, pointing at Sora again. "At all?"

"Okay, I'll go get that aspirin."

Much to Riku's amazement, Tidus really _did_ leave his room and started rummaging around in the bathroom. Tidus, whose motto is 'Bug me at the break of dawn and die cuckoo'.

"I think I need to sit down."

Sora frowned as the pale man did just that. Plopping right onto the middle of the wooden floor, surrounded by his text books, Riku dragged a hand through his messy hair as he peeked at him again. Narrowing his eyes, Sora surveyed the other's hyperactive eyes. "Hey..._hey!_ Snap out of it!" he said, waving his hand before him slightly.

Riku blinked.

"Stay with me. The last thing your friend needs is for you to pass out," Sora said. He crossed his arms and sat before Riku. "I'm sorry for banging around your books."

"Well. Well, this is great." Huffing out a breath, Riku ran another hand through his hair. "I just about had a heart attack, because some delusion-turned-_ghost boy_ popped up and decided to pay me a visit, but you're sorry because you banged my books. Well."

Giggling slightly to himself, Sora briefly noted that color was slowly returning to the guy's face. Really, the living was just so darn resilient. "I was never _a_ delusion in the first place," he said, sapphire eyes sparkling again.

"...Right."

"I am a _ghost_, okay. Erm, I guess a remnant soul of the deceased? Actually, I'm not sure what I am. That little wet dream you had last night? About those pretty boys wrapped around you in the Jacuzzi? If you start seeing them when you're awake, then _they're_ delusions. Capish? By the way, can I assume that you're gay?"

_This is not real_. Riku briefly wondered if maybe he's still passed out somewhere. There's _no way_ that he's sitting in the middle of his room, in nothing but his _boxers_, talking to a _ghost_ who just described to him his _wet dream_ from last night.

"Uh. Yea," he said, in answer to his previous question.

"I use to know a guy who was gay." Sora snickered. "He was the most _stubborn_ jackass about it though. Oh well." At the look Riku was giving him he laughed. "Oh! Don't worry! I don't _usually_ sneak into people's dreams. It's just, you were kinda...moaning. Ya know, loud."

Riku groaned.

"Yea, like that," he said, chuckling again to himself.

As the last bit of sleep faded from his mind and his pounding brain woke to the reality of the situation, Tidus came running back into the room, aspirin in hand, only to trip over Riku's sitting form. Watching the two crashed onto the ground, the room, the _world_, tilted before Riku's very eyes.

Dancing sapphire appeared before his vision. "Are you okay?"

As the sweet melodious tones rained over him, Riku wheezed...and felt his world quite literally turn upside down.

**End Chapter**

Well, hope you all enjoyed...x)

As I promised, here's the first summer update. I promise I won't disappear for a year before I update again. Take a little time and review, please!

Lots of greets,

Yukisora

**Edited By: Wake-Robin**

**Last Checked: June 24, 2006**


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